Sir Tony Baldry stands to speak in the House of Commons. Photograph: PA

The House of Commons took on the Church of England on Thursday. If the church didn't allow female bishops, MPs said, they would force them. The C of E is the established church, which means that parliament has the power to tell it what to do. It was might versus mitre. Gas against gaiters. By hook or by crook, they would bend the crosier to their will. There would be, in one MP's words, no stained glass ceiling for women.

The whole discussion was wonderfully old-fashioned. There was a whiff of Parliament versus the Crown. You half expected the Queen to march in, seize the ceremonial mace and have pikemen arrest the Speaker. It is also the only discussion I've ever heard in the Commons where the (allegedly) longest word in the language, antidisestablishmentarianism, would have made perfect sense.

The man in the middle was Sir Tony Baldry, the Tory MP for Banbury, who rejoices in the title of "second church estates commissioner", which makes him the link between the church and parliament. He is also a member of the Garrick Club, and was wearing the club tie. This is patterned with very pale green and pink stripes, which makes it the only tie that tells you not only where its owner had lunch, but what he had to eat. As it happens, the Garrick Club does not admit female members.

Sir Tony is a great believer in the need for female bishops. (Unless, of course, one of them turned up at the Garrick Club bar hoping to be served.) He said there should be no nonsense about waiting another five years before the church consecrated women. It was his "earnest hope" that parliament would pass a measure to oblige them.

The House of Bishops had given all the leadership it could. Talking to the hardliners was like watching government whips trying to persuade Eurosceptics: "They were just not going to listen." One of the Eurosceptics, Peter Bone, said there was a crucial difference: "The Eurosceptics are right."

Sir Tony warmed to his theme. The church's decision this week meant it was not a national church any more; it was "a sect, like any other sect". He made the Church of England, once called the Conservative party at prayer, sound like the Plymouth Brethren or those people who drink Kool-Aid in jungles.

Chris Bryant, now a Labour attack dog but a former vicar, said Downing Street should go on strike and refuse to appoint more bishops until women were allowed. Sir Tony pointed out, glumly, I thought, that Gordon Brown had given away the PM's right to appoint bishops. "Take it back, then!" shouted Ben Bradshaw.

The idea parliament should grab the church by the dog collar and give it, in David Cameron's words, "a prod" was deeply appealing to MPs. Why, they would be doing the church a favour, or "putting it out of its agony", as David Tredinnick said.